


His iPod

by TheLastDemiWarriorNinjaofFireSide



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Confused Patton, Exasperated Logan, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm so sorry, It's too early for this, Junior High, No Deceit, Okay Princey is a butt in this, The sides are in, let's do this guys, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastDemiWarriorNinjaofFireSide/pseuds/TheLastDemiWarriorNinjaofFireSide
Summary: Junior High Thomas gets an iPod for his birthday. Shenanigans ensue. (This is Thomas’s brain, what did you expect?)





	1. Patton

When Thomas was in junior high and he didn’t have a phone yet, his parents gave him an iPod for his birthday. This appealed to his anxious side, so while the sides could all summon an iPod, Virgil (Or rather, Anxiety) was the only one who _had_ it. 

 

But Thomas’s parents dragged their feet on uploading songs onto Thomas’s iPod, so Virgil didn’t have any songs either. Luckily, The iPod had a radio installation thingymabob, and you could record songs from the radio. This arrangement resulted in many… _interesting_ adventures in the mindscape.

 

—*—*—*—

 

Patton—er— _Morality_ walked into the living room to find Anxiety on top of the table. This surprised him, because as the literal embodiment of anxiety, you would think, well, he’d be _anxious_ about doing something dangerous, let alone embarrassing if someone walked in on him and started lecturing him (cough cough _Logic_ ) or teasing him (cough cough _Creativity_ ) but Morality wasn’t going to do any of those. Anxiety didn’t know that though. 

 

The nervous side’s eyes widened, and he flinched as he saw Morality come in, but he didn’t make a move to get off, and his hand, which, Morality noticed, had the iPod Thomas had gotten yesterday in his hand, which was high in the air. All the sides were playing with Thomas’s toys and trinkets from his birthday, but Morality had thought that Princey had gotten the iPod, y’know, him randomly bursting into song and all.

 

“…Anxiety?” Morality asked, “What are you doing?’’ 

 

Anx removed his new headphones, music blaring, “W-what?” He asked, stuttering a tiny bit.

 

“I asked what you were doing up there.” Morality repeated.

 

“Oh! That..” Anxiety acted as if there was something else Morality would’ve asked him about, “Um, well, you see… I’mkindatryingtorecordasong…” Anxiety mumbled the last part in a string of words that took Morality a couple of seconds to digest.

 

“What does recording have to do with standing on the table?” Morality asked, even more confused than before.

 

“I’m trying to get a signal.” Anx responded, then looked at the iPod and clicked a button, “OkayI’mdonenowbye!” he said quickly, scrambling off the table and up the stairs to his room. 

 

Morality stood there dumbfounded, then left the living room as well. What was the reason he came again?


	2. Logan

****

Logic was reading with the new book light Thomas had gotten for his birthday, when he heard a noise outside his room. Glancing at the clock, he cringed. It was a little past three o’clock. He had lost track of time. 

 

Investigating the noise outside, Logic opened his door quietly, walking softly outside. Searching for the source, his mouth dropped as he saw Anxiety, of all people, using his legs to cling to the railing, the upper half of his body hanging several feet off the ground. The anxious side was only staying aloft because he was holding on to the fan with one hand, the other held high with Thomas’s new iPod in his hand, illuminating his panic-stricken face. 

Logic ran under him, “Anxiety!” he hissed, “What in Thomas’s name are you doing?”

 

Anxiety twisted around, one headphone hanging off his ear, which he struggled to keep from falling, “I’m trying to get a signal!” He whispered back.

 

“What the heck?” Logic whisper-yelled, “Is this the right time?”

 

“A sick nasty song came on!” Anxiety hissed, struggling to turn his head enough to see him properly.

 

“Why were you even up?” Logic asked, frustrated.

 

“Why were _you_ even up?” Anxiety shot back.

 

That shut Logic up quickly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, the headache he had gotten from his reading too long growing, “Let’s just get you down from there.” He said, making his way to the spot on the stairs where Anxiety’s feet were tangled in the railing.

 

“I can’t stop now!” Anxiety made no move to accept Logic’s help, “The song isn’t finished yet!”

 

Logic huffed, and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, “It’s too late for this.”

 

After a minute or two, Anxiety whispered into the darkness, “Okay, help.” 

 

“Okay,” Logic said, “give me your iPod and headphones so they don’t fall off and break.”

 

Anxiety handed them to Logic after a moment of painful hesitation. Logic struggled to grab the devices, but he managed alright. 

 

After setting his load safely on the stairs, Logic reached out as far as he could, “Give me your hand.” he instructed.

 

Virgil reached out towards him, but without the helpful light of the iPod, they couldn’t see each other’s hands. It took a little bit until their hands brushed, and the anxious side clutched it like a lifeline, which it kinda was.

 

“Okay,” Logic said, readjusting his glasses with his free hand, “on three, I am going to pull. You need to let go of the fan and grab my other one as quick as you can. Okay?”

 

Anxiety nodded, and Logic could tell he was close to panic. Most likely his hands were slipping. He could feel the sweat on the other side’s hand. 

 

Putting away his fearful thoughts of Anxiety falling, injuring himself, and waking the others, Logic tightened his grip on Anxiety’s hand, making sure it was firm.

 

“Ready,” Logic said, “one, two…” He took a deep breath, getting ready for the strain on his muscles,  “…Three!”

 

Logic hauled on Anxiety’s hand, and his other hand was ready when Anxiety let go of the fan. Straining what felt like every muscle he had, he managed to pull Anxiety onto the stairs and collapsed on the ground, Anx landing next to him. Both were breathing hard, chests heaving up and down.

 

Logic massaged his temples, “…Anx?”

 

Anxiety looked up from where he had been messing with his iPod again, “What?” 

 

“Please refrain from _ever_ making me do that again.” Logic said severely, “ _Especially_ not at three in the morning.”  
  
Anx nodded and headed up the stairs, but not before stopping himself and mumbling, “Thank you, Lo.”

 

Logic nodded at him, “You are welcome.”

 

He then proceeded to stagger to his room and collapse on his bed, falling asleep even before he pulled up the covers.  


	3. Roman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Btw Princey is a butt in this. I really don’t think Princey is a jerk, but when Thomas was a teenager…let’s just say he’s improved a lot since then
> 
> Warning: Minor cussing at the end.

 

Creativity through the halls of the mindscape, singing with gusto, “Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place, where the caravan camels roam.” 

 

“Arabian Nights” was a wonderful song, and the vocals were _amazing_. Princey was going to go to his room, where the acoustics were astounding. He continued singing, “Where it's flat and immense, and the heat is intense, it’s barbaric but hey—”

 

Princey stopped as he heard a thump and an “owww…” from Anxiety’s room. Curious, Princey snuck up to the door and pressed his ear against it. What could Anxiety be possibly doing? He wasn’t really the type to dance on the bed, but there was nothing else in his room that would make that squeaking noise…

 

Princey opened Anxiety’s door open a crack, and was shocked to see the nervous, tense, _boring_ side wobbling on his bed’s headboard. Princey opened the door all the way just to gape at him until he realized that Anxiety was holding Thomas’s iPod up. The iPod _he_ should have gotten.

 

“Hey!” He yelled, and Anxiety screamed and flinched so hard he fell on the floor again. 

 

The hoodie-wearing side got up, a terrified expression on his face, until the moody side saw it was Creativity who had yelled at him. He glowered blackly at Princey, “What the heck? Why are you in my room?”

 

Creativity crossed his arms, “Well, for starters, why do you have _my_ iPod?”

 

Anxiety stared blankly at the creative side for a moment, “…What?” He asked.

 

Princey rolled his eyes, “Don’t play dumb with me or whatever. That is _my_ iPod. I don’t know how you got your hands on it—well, obviously you stole it,” Princey answered himself, “Anyways just give it here.” He instructed, holding out an expectant hand. 

 

At first, Princey thought Anxiety was going to actually hand the device over, but then the anxious side brought the iPod protectively to his chest.

 

“No.” Anxiety said.

 

Creativity was stunned. Did this emo nightmare refuse to hand _his_ property back to its rightful owner?

 

“What?” Princey asked, and he heard his voice take on a dangerous edge. Anxiety’s eyes betrayed his fear, but he didn’t back down.

 

“This is _mine_.” Anxiety said quietly.

 

Creativity’s mind reeled. He hadn’t expected to have to fight for the iPod, but if that’s what it came to…

 

His hand rested on the sword hilt that was always at his side. Anxiety’s eyes widened and he backed up so quickly he tripped over his own feet and ended up on the ground. The iPod fell from his hand, and Creativity quickly swept it up in one grand gesture and turned to leave. But as he reached the threshold, the iPod suddenly started burning in his hand. Frantically, Roman dropped the device and blew on his hand, turning to look behind him where Anxiety was sitting hand outstretched towards him as if casting a spell.

 

Now it was Princey’s turn to take a step back. The darker side’s face was filled with so much anger it startled Creativity. The two had a staring contest, and Princey was the first to look away.

 

“See?” Anxiety said, “It _is_ mine.”

 

Silently, Creativity nodded. All of Thomas’s belonging more or less belonged to a certain side. Not permanent stuff, mind you, like a couch, but like a scarf or hat. If Thomas had a blanket that had a lot of emotion or memories connected to it, it would be Morality’s. If it reminded Thomas of a play or something like that, it ended up in Princey’s room. The items automatically appeared in their room, no matter what. If they were lost, they would appear in their normal spot later on. The sides it belonged to also had a certain amount of control over an object of theirs, say, making it burn whoever was holding it. By making the iPod burn Creativity, Anxiety had proved that it truly belonged to him.

 

The said side curled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut. The iPod appeared in his hand, and he looked back up at Princey.

 

“Now get the hell out of my room.” He said, his expression livid.

 

Creativity booked it.

 

 


End file.
